


Swell

by Askellie (NadaNine)



Series: SLAUE [6]
Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Ecto-Penis (Undertale), Hand Jobs, Implied/Referenced Abuse, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-12
Updated: 2017-01-12
Packaged: 2018-09-17 00:32:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,275
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9296348
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NadaNine/pseuds/Askellie
Summary: “Oh thank fuck,” he says instead, dropping to his knees so he can bury his face against Sans's sternum, clinging tightly to his ribs. “You're finally back.”“Uh. Yep. Sure am.” Sans sounds bemused, but accepts the over-dramatic embrace good-naturedly.Sans comes home to witness the aftermath of Chara's desire for a harem. Papyrus is just glad to have a conversation with someone sane for a change.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Content Warnings: Underswap!Papyrus/Sans. Referenced non-con. Handjob, ecto-cocks, hurt/comfort, inappropriately timed puns. This is actually pretty fluffy for a change.

Papyrus stomps from Chara's room, finally able to vent some small measure of his frustrations. It's always a bad idea to do so around Chara, of course, but even worse to let Edge see that his antagonism is getting to Papyrus in any way. Normally he doesn't have much of a problem keeping his cool, but he's short on sleep after soothing Red through the uneasy transition of his new ownership and the resulting exhaustion has left his reflexes a little slower than they should have been which was a very bad state in which to be training their more rancorous new addition because goddamn it, Edge's teeth were fucking sharp. Papyrus has half a dozen new gouges spread between his wrist and his forearm, still flaking dust. His hands are shaking badly enough that it takes him three tries to successfully light his cigarette, and the moment it's burning he chomps on it aggressively, nearly tearing its delicate filter. 

“Yo.”

The quiet voice at his side doesn't quite alarm him. He blinks down at Sans for a moment in befuddlement, his mild whirling through the usual pointless questions of how Sans can appear from nowhere in a corridor with no convenient entries, or how he managed to get in without raising the guard or tripping any of Chara's security measures. Sans only ever talks in circles whenever anyone tries to question his movements, and he seems to enjoy keeping Chara guessing which is a habit Papyrus secretly finds highly entertaining.

“Oh thank fuck,” he says instead, dropping to his knees so he can bury his face against Sans's sternum, clinging tightly to his ribs. “You're finally back.”

“Uh. Yep. Sure am.” Sans sounds bemused, but accepts the overdramatic embrace good-naturedly. He pats Papyrus tentatively on the skull. “You okay there, buddy? Not that I'm not happy to see you too, but...”

Papyrus groans, low and expressively. Normally he wouldn't dare show quite this much sentiment anywhere in the house, but electronics have a habit of going on the fritz whenever Sans is around. It's extremely convenient. Papyrus is sure that the moment he crumpled at Sans's feet all the cameras in their vicinity, including the one in his skull, probably spontaneously decided to stop working.

“That bad, huh?” Sans asks, sounding amused despite himself. 

“You have no idea,” Papyrus mutters, glancing up. Habitually, he always likes to check and make sure Sans has properly come back in one piece. Sans never volunteers much, and sometimes he needs to be convinced that maybe he should let someone brace that broken finger or feed him something more substantial than a few bottles of ketchup. This time he looks fine; the dark circles under his eye-sockets are heavy, but that's usual. His clothes are looking ragged around the edges, but he knows Sans prefers to look like a monster down on his luck. It keeps people from getting too interested in his business.

Of the two of them, it's Papyrus who looks worse, for a change. Sans tilts Papyrus's head up further, his mouth thinning slightly when he notices some of the shallower cuts along Papyrus's jaw. They're not as deep as the bites on his arm, but Edge had definitely put up an impressive amount of resistance. Papyrus aches in all sorts of unpleasant places. 

“Why don't we get you cleaned up?” Sans suggests gently, coaxing Papyrus back to his feet. “You can bring me up to speed.”

Papyrus allows himself to be tugged a long, frankly relieved he's not going to be trying to bandage himself with nothing but a mirror and a bottle of whiskey for company. It'll give him more time to think of better excuses to tell Blue in the morning.

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“So Chara has a new hobby,” he says later, holding out his arm readily while Sans deftly delves into all the dusty pockmarks with a cotton bud and a numbing ointment. 

“Lion taming?” Sans guesses playfully. 

“HA. Close,” Papyrus grunts, trying not to flinch as Sans cleans out one of the deeper grooves. “So imagine this. A harem. Of skeleton monsters.”

“Sounds...challenging,” Sans offers, his expression impressively neutral. If he's incredulous or offended, it's impossible to tell.

“Yeah, no kidding,” Papyrus sighs, doing his best to hold still. The gel is starting to ease the pain, but now his arm feels warm and itchy. “One of our new additions isn't real happy with the situation, as you can see.”

Sans makes a sympathetic noise. “Yeah, looks like he'll be a bundle of fun in the bedroom. Must be exactly to Chara's taste.”

The candidness of Sans's comment startles a laugh out of Papyrus. Its nice to be free enough not to have to guard his tone. “Yep. Feisty and full of ego. Hates humans, I think. He's a real fresh catch, too. Breaking him in is turning into a real pain.”

“What about the other one?” Sans asks curiously.

It doesn't surprise him that Sans already knows at least that much, even if he only just got back. Sans's job is knowing things. Papyrus's expression turns a shade more moody at the thought of Red. “Hnn. Dunno. He's pliant enough, I guess.”

“But...?” Sans prompts when it seems like Papyrus isn't going to qualify his dubious tone.

Papyrus sighs, absently butting his cigarette into the ashtray. “Got some real issues with his soul. I've never seen anything like it.”

Interest flashes across Sans's expression, but quickly disappears. No doubt he'll find out more in his own ways, or possibly just first hand if he's sticking around. Papyrus hopes he is. It's nice to have someone he can vent to properly, not to mention someone who can help cleaning up inconvenient messes like the one Edge made of his arm.

Sans's fingers are cool and steady as he works. He's surprisingly good at this sort of thing...or maybe it's not so surprising. Sans is one of the most self-sufficient monsters Papyrus has ever known. He's not even entirely sure why Sans stays, to be honest, but he's immensely grateful for it. 'Friend' is an unfamiliar word and not one Papyrus would ever be caught actually using, but Sans is possibly the closest he has to such a thing.

He adores Blue, of course, but in his presence Papyrus always has to be hyper-vigilant. Blue is delicate, physically and emotionally, and even if part of his sheltered nature is Papyrus's own doing he'll be damned if anyone ruins it least of all himself. Sans is different. He knows some of the harsh, unpleasant truths of what Chara demands of him and doesn't judge. Sans understands their necessity. He knows what Chara _is,_ and having someone to share that burden with is an unspeakable relief. 

Sans finishes bandaging up his arm and gestures for Papyrus to let him have a closer look at his face. Papyrus leans down, but with the corner of the table between them and the difference in heights, the angle is still awkward. He considers for a moment before coming to a decision and, with little fanfare, picks Sans up and sits the smaller skeleton across his lap.

“Whoa,” Sans says, though despite the exclamation he looks unperturbed. His permanent smile is curled a little more so than usual. “Well...that works too, I guess.”

He begins working at the scraps along Papyrus's chin, diligent and focused. Papyrus settles his hands on Sans's hips, finding the crests of his illium beneath Sans's jacket. He really had meant just to give Sans a better working angle, but now that he's got a warm weight spread across his femurs he finds himself getting distracted. Edge had given him a thorough work-out, for sure, but in these delicate early days it was important to reinforce his own dominance in their power struggle. He'd forced Edge down, made him screech and writhe, made him _come_ , whilst deliberately leaving his own need unattended, and his body is choosing this moment to remind him of that fact.

He rubs a hand up Sans's spine. Sans pauses in his work, giving him a pointed look.

“So you're taking this harem thing seriously?” he asks dryly, composed, as if Papyrus's hips aren't rocking slightly against his own.

“What Chara wants, Chara gets,” Papyrus replies with a leer.

Sans puts his tools down, hands resting lightly on Papyrus's shoulders. “Y'know, Chara's not here right now. What about what you want?”

Papyrus's bravado fades a little. He still can't guage much from Sans's expression, but there's a hint of empathy there. No judgement; never from Sans.

“Help a guy out, would you?” Papyrus asks plaintively, running a hand down to rest lightly against the front of Sans's pants. The bone beneath is slightly heated. Sans isn't quite as disinterested as he's making out to be.

“I guess I could,” Sans muses, but adjusts himself with an enticing wiggle across Papyrus's lap, scooting forward until his groin is pressed up delightfully against the taller skeleton's pubic mound. “Since I'm such a swell person, an' all.”

Papyrus scoffs playfully, but he's not going to call Sans out when the other is being so obliging. It's not the first time they've exchanged favours, though usually it's at Chara's behest. He knows Sans well enough that a few rough, calculating strokes down the inner length of his spine is enough to work the other up fairly quickly. Sans's breath rapidly turns ragged and his cheeks flush a very fetching shade of blue. He's not doing much more than clinging to Papyrus's throat, but in this instance he doesn't mind doing most of the work. Sans took care of him; now he can return the favour.

He eases a hand into Sans's pants, thumbing along the familiar ridges of his pelvis. His fingers move delicately – Sans likes a firmer touch on his spine, but he's much more sensitive in other places. Papyrus holds the private suspicion that Sans might sometimes allow his contacts to get a little handsy in order to coax information out of them, but he's not used to moving past a certain point. There's a particular tension in him whenever someone touches him below the belt, so Papyrus makes sure to move slow and broadcast his movements clearly. 

Sans grunts against his neck, squirming deliciously in Papyrus's arms. A little encouragement has soft blue magic gathering around Papyrus's fingers, and a purred suggestion makes Sans shiver as his cock manifests to fit neatly in Papyrus's palm. 

“You sure are a _swell_ person,” Papyrus smirks, making Sans burst out with a splutter of laughter. 

“You'd be _hard-_ pressed to find someone more ful _filling_ ,” he agreed, and they both snickered with inappropriate amusement. Chara was much less lenient of puns in the bedroom unless they were bloodthirsty ones, and Blue would squawk in outrage. 

His own erection is getting distinctly uncomfortable, so he shifts Sans just enough that he can work it free of his own pants. Papyrus arches up, letting their shafts graze against each other with a brilliant spark of friction. He can taste Sans's magic in the air – like forest pine, cool and peaceful. It prompts him to nuzzles against the side of Sans's skull until the other turns his head, letting their teeth touch in a careful, exploratory meeting while Papyrus's hand goes to work between them.

With a bit of effort he can wrap his long fingers around both of them at the same time, and Sans huffs appreciatively against his mouth as he clasps their cocks tightly together in an exquisitely slow stroke. He doesn't feel the need to rush. There's no pressure of Chara's eyes watching him, an no need to be on guard against Edge's volatile temperament or Red's flinching unease. He eases them into a gentle pace, leaning back on his seat so Sans's weight is pressed more fully against him.

He knows from experience Sans doesn't have much stamina, so when Sans starts twitching and gasping against him, he's quick to increase the pace, his own body needing very little incentive to hasten along to completion. A particularly harsh jerk and an errant whimper from Sans is all it takes to undo him, his body flexing with pleasant convulsions, warmth flooding through his bones as his breath catches and climax washes over him. Blindly, he smears some of his release across his palm and uses the increased lubrication to give Sans's shaft a slick, stimulating passage to thrust into. Showing a little more vigour, or perhaps desperation, Sans bucks into his hand, a slurry of erotic noises hissing between his teeth before he finally manages to reach his own peak and comes hard. 

The heavy, heated afterglow is incredibly soothing. Sans is limp but comfortable atop him, his  breathing gradually returning to normal. Not even the seeping wet patch on his shirt is giving Papyrus any motivation to move again, though he probably should at least try shift them to Sans's bed. He'll give himself another ten minutes to think about it.

“Hey...you're sticking around for a while, right?” he asks, trying to keep the question light and not overburdened with too much expectation. 

“Hmm. Gotta give my report to Chara in the morning.” Sans yawns, deep and blatant. “Dunno yet. Guess we'll see?”

“Sure,” Papyrus agrees, wondering if there's any way he can talk Chara into it. In the meantime, he lets his body convince him that it's better to stay here for the night than to try and work his way back to his own room. Might as well make the most of Sans's time while he's here.


End file.
